The Element of Silence
by mavis-in-sweaters
Summary: In a rare magical case of Post-Traumatic-Stress, Remus loses his voice after the Snape incident. RL/SB. "He cried, Remus, just from seeing them. This is Sirius Black we're talking about, and he doesn't cry for just anyone." ONESHOT.


**A fan-fiction in which Remus loses his voice in a rare case of magical post-traumatic-stress. Contains slash, so if that's not your thing, clear out. **

**Enjoy.**

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"Mr Lupin, how are you feeling today?" she asked, peering at him with thinly veiled concern infecting her eyes. Remus hated it. He loathed the way he was treated like a fragile flower at every meeting. Professor McGonagall was, by far, the teacher he respected most, but sometimes her sympathy for him made him feel even more sorry for himself.

Remus shrugged. _It doesn't matter how I feel._

"And how are things going with your friends?" she prodded, attempting in vain to elicit just one word from his mouth. It never worked. He hadn't uttered a single word since the willow incident, despite Sirius's pleadings, the sad looks James would send him, and the meetings with McGonagall which he attended on a daily basis.

After screaming so hard he swore his throat had bled, he fell into a perpetual and apathetic silence, as though all the life had been drained from his body. He was too miserable to see the torment it inflicted on his friends, especially Sirius, who felt personally responsible.

_They aren't my friends. They deserve better._

Remus did not voice his thoughts, and simply shrugged in answer. McGonagall sighed.

"Well, if that's all you have to say, you may leave," she said kindly, to which Remus nearly sprung out of his seat in relief. He nodded goodbye, and exited quickly, leaving his teacher looking after him with an extremely sad expression on her face.

Remus's hands were shoved deep in his pockets as he made his way back to the common room, leaning forwards so that his hair obscured his face. Recently, he found no point in making any effort in his appearance, so his shirt was wrinkled, his sleeves unbuttoned, and his hair ruffled and shaggy. Many would come to the conclusion that the fashion sense of James and Sirius had finally gotten to him. The only things which let on to how he really felt, were the sunken quality to his eyes, the grey bags underneath them, and the dead expression on his face. He looked tired, ill, and past the point of caring.

Pulling out a pre-prepared piece of parchment with the password written on it, he held it up to the Fat Lady, who smiled sadly, and swung open the portrait hole. Walking through the common room took barely a minute now, as he had no care to be there longer than necessary. The only thing he was dreading now, was having to see his roommates. He hadn't seen them since the morning after, when he had sobbed and screamed at Sirius until the dark haired boy collapsed, shivering. He had been sleeping nonstop in the Room of Requirement, and had not left even to eat. He was skinny, and dirty. _If I wasn't an animal before, I am now._

They all looked up as he entered. The first thing he realized was that he had opened the door in the middle of a fight. James seemed to be advancing on Sirius, who was staring sullenly at his shoes. Sirius's pale skin was bruised, a good bloody cut above his left eyebrow. Remus had done those the first time he saw Sirius after the incident. They all stared at him, as if not believing he was really there. Peter, with a frightened expression, James with sadness, and Sirius with remorse.

"Remus," James said, moving to come towards him, but Remus flinched, staring sullenly at his shoes, and James drew back.

Remus opened his trunk silently, pulling his shirt over his head. He could feel James and Sirius's eyes boring into his back, staring at the fresh wounds which the wolf had inflicted upon itself, after being cheated of it's prey only three days ago.

He discarded his trousers, standing only in his boxer shorts, tugged his pajama pants on, and then climbed into his four-poster. He had only a second to view the way Sirius's eyes were red and brimming with tears, before he snapped the curtains shut. He distinctly heard a choked sob. He didn't care if Sirius was upset. Being sorry could never take back what he did. If James hadn't have stopped him, hadn't have pulled Snape back at the last second, by now a silver bullet would have hit his chest, and he would be dead. Dead, or somewhere being tortured with silver lashes, his screams ringing out helplessly. And, of course, Snape would be dead too, or inflicted with the same curse he bore. Remus would never wish that on anybody.

It was better that Sirius stayed away. Even though he had hurt Remus more than anyone else, even though he could have ripped apart his entire life in one day, Remus could never hate him. He was just as much in love with him as he was a month ago, and he didn't think that was going to change anytime soon.

"Remus?"

Remus lifted his head a fraction off of the library desk, to see Lily treading cautiously towards him. He groaned almost imperceptibly, as the redhead slid into the chair opposite him, and regarded him carefully. Lily had a habit for poking her nose in where it didn't belong. Her eyes were a bit red, and he immediately knew that James must have told her what happened, as the two of them had been getting on better than usual.

"I heard about what happened," she said quietly. Remus stared at her blankly.

"Please talk to me Remus," she whispered desperately, "I understand why you wouldn't talk to Sirius, but I'm your best friend, and doing _this _isn't good for you, it's ridiculous!"

Remus said nothing, though he must have looked upset, because Lily immediately put a hand on his arm.

"Merlin, Rem, I'm sorry… I'm just worried, you know that, right?"

He nodded. _Why would you be worried about me?_

A nervous look suddenly made it's way onto Lily's face, as her hands, which were settled on top of the table, started to jitter. _Oh fuck._

"Sirius…" she stopped, thinking over her words, "Sirius is more sorry than you can imagine. We all love you, Remus, and so does he. Just… Don't push away the people who love you. Not now."

Remus could feel his eyes stinging, though he tried to tell himself that he didn't care who bloody thought they loved him, because they were wrong. No one could love a monster like him, who put all the people he loved in danger. No one.

Remus pulled out a muggle biro from the pocket of his jeans, and wrote, _Please leave_, on the corner of the book he was reading. He spun it around so Lily could read it. Her face turned a bit red, and Remus even felt the tiniest bit guilty as her bottom lip trembled. It couldn't be helped. Lily was a better person by far than anyone else he had met, and he could never, _would _never hurt her because of his condition. He had to stay away; it was the right thing to do.

Once Lily was gone, Remus felt even more awful than before. He was helping the, couldn't they see that? They all now knew just how dangerous he was, so why didn't they understand why he couldn't be around them? Yes, it hurt like hell, to see them all together and not being a part of it himself, but they were so much better than him.

Maybe he was so emotionally tired that his body needed more sleep, or maybe he just wanted to stop thinking for a while, but Remus drifted off to sleep, his head lying awkwardly on top of the open thick tome he had been reading. He looked innocent and winsome, the jagged scars softened by the rapidly fading light. Pince must have forgotten to check for students sleeping in dusty corners, as when Remus woke up it was a good hour past curfew, and the silence clung to the air like gossamer.

Blinking blearily, Remus lifted his head. A sharp pain shot through his neck, and he gasped slightly, his hand flying to rub at the pain.

"Sleeping on a book mightn't have been the best idea, mate," someone said from behind him. Remus whipped his head towards the very recognizable voice, causing another flash of pain to crawl up his neck.

James was leaning against a bookshelf, his glasses dorky, and his smile cautious. Remus's lips twitched briefly upwards, and really, that's all James had been aiming for. The dark haired boy took in how diaphanous Remus looked, and felt utterly helpless.

The 'cool and casual' stance that James had perfected so suddenly disappeared, and was replaced with the caring one which appeared every once in a while. James sat on the seat next to Remus, and put his hands on his friend's shoulders as a gesture of comfort.

"Remus," James said softly, trying to catch the werewolf's eye, "from mate to mate… I love you, okay? And I think I understand why you're avoiding us."

_You can't understand, _Remus thought.

"I get that you feel like you're a monster, and… that you think we'll be scared off. Yes, Snape could have died that day, and your whole life could have been shattered, but none of that was your fault."

James opened and closed his mouth, floundering for what to say.

"When we say that we love you, Moony, we don't just mean 'you're a great friend and all'… I mean… well you are a great friend, but it's more than that. I… we…you're my brother just as much as Sirius is, even though I can barely look at him at the moment. Look, Rem, the extent of how much we care about you is ineffable. So just think about that, okay?"

Remus wasn't sure how much he believed James, but the felicity he felt at his words spoke for itself. He startled himself when he felt moisture on his cheeks; tears. He wiped them away in embarrassment, though James just laughed and pulled Remus towards him, enveloping him in a hug.

"You don't have to talk to Sirius yet, but can you at least actually sleep in the dorm?"

Remus nodded. After all, it couldn't _really _be that bad.

"So… are you planning on talking any time soon?" James asked cautiously, as he and Remus walked up the moving staircases. He had known this question was coming. The thing was, while he had originally stopped talking because he was miserable and didn't feel like it, now he seemed to be physically unable to talk. It was as if his ability to speak had disappeared where Sirius's loyalty had.

Remus pulled his wand from his pocket, and used it to write in the air, in green lettering, '_I don't think I can.'_

"Why not?" the other boy frowned. Remus lifted his wand once again.

'_I'm not sure. I open my mouth, but nothing seems to come out.'_

James clapped a hand onto Remus's shoulder, careful not to hit any bruises.

"Well… you take as long as you like."

It was funny, Remus mused, that despite his cocky and arrogant demeanor, James was actually capable of making him feel wanted, accepted, loved. If he didn't act like such a prat all the time, he would have won over Lily's heart much sooner.

"By the way," James said solemnly, "Sirius is a mess. I don't want to make this about him, but if you could not, like, give him that murderous stare you have perfected, for one thing, and also… um-,"

James trailed off nervously. Remus bobbed his head to prompt him to continue.

"Well… You didn't hear, cause I put up a silencio, but last night when you stripped, and Sirius saw all the wounds that the wolf gave you because he was so angry at Snape getting away and everything… well. He _cried_, Remus, just from seeing them. This is Sirius Black we're talking about, and he doesn't cry for just anyone."

Of course, Remus knew this to be true. While Sirius could be very emotional at times, it was well known that tears were out of the question for him. In fact, Remus had only ever seen Sirius cry three times. Once, after Regulus had finally started to listen to his parents, and told Sirius they could have no contact. Then, when James had told Remus to come over as soon as possible, as Sirius had run away from home and was a complete mess, and lastly, just a few days ago, when Sirius had knelt before Remus, fingers threaded into his belt loops, his face ashen, eyes wide, and pleaded for Remus's forgiveness, tears shining on his cheeks.

Remus gave no indication that he had heard James, though he felt a swooping sensation in his gut, as if he had taken a sudden dive on a broomstick.

"I'm serious, Rem," James said earnestly, his eyes impossibly big behind engulfing glasses, "he wasn't thinking, and he did a stupid thing, and I'm just as angry as you… but he's still your friend."

Remus raised his wand. _'He's not my friend, James.'_

"Now you're just being childish," James sighed, "you can't erase six years of friendship just like that!"

'_Well, it seems that Sirius can.'_

The werewolf was glaring something awful at the floor, his amber-brown eyes burning in a way which made James quite nervous for his life.

"I don't want to fight, Remus," he finally sighed. In one night, Remus thought he had lost his first friends since he was bitten, his entire life was almost ruined, and he could have been kicked out of the first place he truly felt he belonged. He didn't deserve to be chastised, so James turned the (mostly one-sided) conversation to safer topics, such as the way Lily Evans's hair lit up like wildfire when the afternoon sun hit it.

Two days later of pretending Sirius's pleading glances didn't exist, Remus could be found, yet again, snoring quietly on top of a large book. Sirius knew that he shouldn't be there. Remus hated him, and he had more than enough reason to. Still, Sirius couldn't help but stop for just a minute to gently rearrange Remus's head and body so he was positioned more comfortably. James had mentioned how Remus had gotten a crick in his neck the day before from sleeping on the table, and while looking for transfiguration book, (immersing himself in studying helped him forget what he had done,) he had spotted the unmistakable tawny hair.

While he was sure that Remus absolutely detested him, Sirius was even surer that no one hated him more than himself. He could say honestly that Remus was the best thing that ever happened to him, and he had thrown that friendship away as if it meant nothing to him.

It made Sirius feel physically ill to the stomach to think that if his 'prank' had succeeded, then Remus could be in Azkaban right now, the Dementors stealing away all his good memories. Or he could be dead, executed by the ministry, no more than an empty carcass embedded with a silver bullet.

Sirius glanced for a moment at the book which Remus was leaning on, then did a double take. James had told him what Remus had said. _'I open my mouth, but nothing seems to come out.' _James said he had initially thought that Remus was too pissed to speak, or that his throat was just sore from screaming so many obscenities at Sirius. The book under Remus's head was open at a chapter titled, _Magical Post Traumatic Stress._

Immediately after reading the title, Sirius transfigured his Gryffindor scarf into a red and gold pillow, and swapped it with the book on _Magical Maladies. _Sirius was lucky that Remus was such a deep sleeper.

He tucked the book under his arm, and made to sneak away, before he turned back around, took off his leather jacket, (wishing it was his warm cloak instead), and draped it gently over the sleeping boy. He allowed himself one last admiring glance at Remus, before leaving to finally get around to what Remus had been urging him to do for six years, which was; leisure reading.

_Post Traumatic Stress disorder, or PTSD, was first identified by muggles. It is a condition of persistent mental and emotional stress occurring as a result of injury or severe psychological shock, typically involving disturbance of sleep and constant vivid recall of the experience, with dulled responses to others and to the outside world. However, as members of the magical community have a more fragile mental wellbeing than muggles, often witches or wizards can be prone to more severe or destructive cases of PTSD. Furthermore, those with extended magical qualities, such as part Veela blood or Lycanthropy, are even more prone to effects, which are often more severe. Some cases of PTSD in witches or wizards have included:_

_-Temporary loss of magic abilities._

_-Babbling or uncontrollable mutterings._

_-Hallucinations or mirages._

_-Complete loss of voice._

Sirius stopped as soon as he read that line, and groaned in self-loathing, smacking his forehead onto the tome. Not only had he shattered Remus's trust, but he had also managed to make him lose his voice, for how long, Sirius had no idea. At least Remus was a master in wandless magic, he recalled fondly. In fact, if there were one person in their year who Sirius would be legitimately afraid to face in a duel, it would be Remus. Sweet, beautiful Remus, who Sirius couldn't stop loving even if he tried.

Sirius scanned the chapter for possible treatments, but all it contained was more symptoms, and further explanations of them. Bloody useless.

"Goddamn," Sirius groaned, feeling utterly horrible. He sensed that a helluva lot of library sessions were about to occur in order to find a way to heroically rescue Remus's voice. Though he'd consider it a miracle, he might even make Remus smile at him again.

Remus woke, dizzy and disorientated, with weight draped across him that hadn't been present before he'd gone to sleep. Unlike the thin sheet of silence which was pegged to the air the last time he fell asleep in the library, the air whispered, like a secret being carried along by open ears. The air was rich, and entirely not empty.

He leaned back slowly this time, careful to not strain his neck, (which was undoubtedly cocked up by now), and as he did so, a heavy black jacket fell from his shoulders. He knew within seconds who the jacket belonged to. The rich leather scent of the material, and the musky scent of the owner mingling with it both pointed at Sirius Black with neon lettering.

So Sirius could tuck him into his precious jacket, but he couldn't keep his darkest secret. Only then did Remus take note of the Gryffindor striped pillow which his head had been resting on. That certainly hadn't been there before.

He felt angry.

And… slightly touched.

Bloody Sirius and his goddamn charm. If he wasn't so beautiful, and didn't have those eyes, which were completely ignorant of how eyes were _supposed _to make you feel, then maybe Remus's heart wouldn't be jumping like a caffeinated four year old. Maybe he wouldn't currently be deeply inhaling the scent of the jacket that had been left behind.

Sirius was asleep when Remus got to the dormitory, so he folded up the jacket and scarf, (the latter which he had transfigured out of its pillow form), and scribbled, _'I don't need your charity,' _onto it, briefly wondering if he was being too harsh.

He put the items onto Sirius's bed, where the boy himself was barely visible but for the ashen hair, which brushed his face gently. It was astounding how innocent someone could look while sleeping.

He was about to make an exit, (up to the Astronomy tower to stare at the stars), when he suddenly caught sight of the _Magical Maladies _book, which was sitting open by Sirius's torso. The bastard had been reading it.

Remus already knew why he couldn't speak. It was some strange Wizarding form of PTSD, which he had absolutely no idea how to counter. If his friendships with the other Marauders had been stable, Remus knew that the other boys would be all too happy to offer their ideas on how to return his voice. Now, however, James would look distinctly pained, Peter flustered and out of his depth, and Sirius… well, Sirius already knew, unless he had had a sudden urge to read up on magical maladies. He was asleep, too, so the only expression he wore was the sluggish peace of sleep.

Sirius stirred, and Remus bolted, ashamed, and slightly disappointed.

Remus sighed. He knew it was weird to keep looking at Sirius's sleeping form for extended periods of time, or at all, really. The alternative which he had been taking, was to sit on the railing of the Astronomy tower, (not incredibly safe, he knew that), and to stare at Sirius, the brightest star in the sky. It was corny, and hopelessly ridiculous, but he couldn't help it. It was the best that he could do to keep his emotions somewhere where he could keep them in check.

Swinging a leg over the railing, he hoisted himself up into a seating position. The ground seemed ever so far away, and the failing light threw a washed out layer of fog onto the world below, like a muted effect on an old photo. It was beautiful, despite how far down it was. Remus had never been particularly perturbed by heights. James had always prodded him to try out for Quidditch, but Remus would just laugh and say, "You'd do better recruiting Peter."

Really though, he just didn't like to be in the spotlight. He preferred to sit on his own, not for fear of socializing, but because it truly and honestly made him feel happy, peaceful, content.

It was the only place where he was completely free of dark thoughts. It was perfect.

A week later, and Remus was ready to cry in defeat. He was still completely unable to speak, as though his voice had been ripped from his throat like the insides of a pumpkin. Instead of marching angrily around the dorm, he had made his way to the Astronomy tower again, where things were quiet and comprehensible.

Instead of sitting safely on the railing, he stood precariously on top of it, gripping the pillar beside him for safety. It was raining, the pellets of water hitting his face like insults, sharp and precise. Lightning flashed in the distance, illuminating up the dark with each artistic strike. Remus had always loved the rain. When he was a child, particularly just after the bite, it had been one of the only things which helped him sleep. Now, on days where it was solemnly silent, and sleep danced away from him like a poltergeist, he would take out an old tape and tap it with his wand, so the sound emanated magically with no use of a tape player. It had no music, just the lulling sound of rain.

"What the _fuck_ are you _doing_?" came a panicked voice from behind him, startling him so much that he almost pitched forwards into the empty space. He latched firmly onto the pillar, his heart pounding as he turned to face the intruder of his silence.

Sirius. Of course.

"Remus! _Fuck, _don't… don't jump," the boy cried pleadingly, his hair ruffled with that unmistakable quality of sleep. "You are _so _goddamn needed here, don't you fucking _dare _jump!"

Remus looked at him in confusion, before realizing that _stupid _Sirius Black thought he was going to jump. He thought that Remus as ready to give everything up already.

Sirius stepped towards him slowly, mistaking the soft movement of Remus's shoulders to be sobbing, instead of laughter. Remus couldn't help himself. Sirius thought he was going to _jump._

"Are you… are you laughing?" Sirius questioned in bafflement, his face still worried and horrified. His hands stretched out, as if Remus needed catching.

He stood, head level to Remus's chest, and held out his arms wordlessly. Surprising even himself, Remus sank into the embrace, allowing Sirius to gently pull him into his arms, and set him onto the floor.

"You weren't… going to jump?" Sirius whispered, uncomfortably aware that he hadn't been this close to Remus, (with the tawny haired boy's consent), for almost two weeks. Remus's hands still lingered around his waist, but drew back sharply when Sirius spoke.

Remus's brow furrowed in concentration, as he used his wand to write a reply. _'I wasn't going to jump. It just relaxes me.'_

Sirius didn't seem too impressed with his answer, his face turning deliciously red, but his knuckles stark white. Remus shied away from the inevitably coming Sirius Black tantrum speech.

"Don't you realize how _close _you were walking the line between life and death? God, Remus, if you had nodded off, or lost your balance, or jumped too much when I walked in here, you could have fallen. Don't you get that? _You could have fallen off of the Astronomy tower! _I know I messed up, and I know you have good reason to disregard what I say, but for _Merlin's _sake Remus Lupin, don't you _dare _ever do that again, or I will handcuff you to my side even if I have to put up with you screaming and wailing for the rest of my life. I like you a lot more than… a lot of people… just… don't you _dare._"

Sirius choked on gulps of air, while Remus stood dumbstruck.

And there, in the midst of the thunder and the never-ending rain, in the Astronomy tower where the stars weren't even visible, Sirius kissed Remus Lupin squarely and impractically, not with fierce and hungry passion, because if no one has ever told you, plenty of first kisses aren't like that. Sirius kissed the scar-ridden boy with trepidation, pressing his lips with directed anger, holding them there, because he knew what he would see when he released them. The fury. The yellow in Remus's eyes burning with betrayal.

And then he pulled away, because anger could no longer be his excuse for bruising soft pink lips, and things hadn't gone totally wrong just yet.

Remus stared like a deer in headlights.

"What," Remus choked. Not a question. A statement. One that spoke by the energy of sound, rather than magical letters in the air.

Sirius's face froze, eyes lowered with sleep deprivation, and mouth slightly ajar.

"You spoke," he whispered softly, "how are you talking?"

"Talking?" Remus repeated dumbly. If he were completely honest, his voice wasn't exactly the first thing on his mind. God. Sirius kissed him, and he let him.

Then it kicked him.

"Shit," he whispered, "my… my voice!"

Sirius laughed, mostly in amazement, due to the fact that a tiny smile, only noticeable if you had lived with the boy for six years, was pulling weakly at the corners of Remus's mouth. _He _had done that. He had made _Remus _smile, however faintly, and for whatever short amount of time it lasted.

"How?" Remus insisted, looking Sirius stubbornly in the eye. Lovely, logical Remus.

"True love's kiss?" Sirius answered hopefully, "It cured that White Snow whats-it."

Remus laughed, and Sirius will be damned if he ever hears a noise so beautiful and euphonious ever again. It isn't a giggle, but a mixture of snorting and unbelieving gasps. It's perpetually humbling and lovely, and if Sirius could listen to one thing for the rest of his life, it would be that laugh. The laugh which was a bit rusty, creaky in places, and in good need of a decent oiling. Sirius joined in, somewhat because he didn't want to be the one staring fondly (creepily) at Remus while he contorted in laughter.

"I hate you Sirius," Remus panted out. A twinge flitted through the dark haired boy's stomach, like an electric shock. Goddamn, it _hurt._

"But I guess," Remus continued wearily, "I don't really, do I?"

Sirius glanced at him hopefully.

"You don't?"

Remus deliberated carefully. God knows he was hurt and bruised, but Sirius cared. He really did. In fact, he probably cared more than anyone, and that in itself was why he could never let Sirius go. It would be, quite frankly, illogical.

"I don't hate you. I'm rather sure I forgive you, actually."

Then it happened again, the silence from the library. The careful, magic-laced silence which wrapped itself desperately around reality. The true quiet. The _element _of quiet. The sort which doesn't cause that humming in your ears, or make you feel like you'll drown in it. It's the sort of silence where the air around you is hard to distinguish as matter, and not just an extension of your own aura.

"Would you mind horribly much… if I kissed you again?" Sirius whispered.

"I don't think I'd mind at all," Remus replied.

When their lips met again, it was with flutterings of, _'it's too soon', _and a sense of fulfillment and felicity, which isn't really describable by any metaphor or analogy. If there's one thing that Remus Lupin and Sirius Black learned about love, it's that you can never describe what it is, no matter how bloody hard you try.

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**So I really hope you liked it. :)**

**Thanks for reading.**


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